“They are very silent,” said Good; and indeed the intense stillness among such a vast concourse of living men was almost overpowering.
“What says Bougwan?” asked Infadoos.
I translated.
“Those over whom the shadow of Death is hovering are silent,” he answered grimly.
“Will many be killed?”
“Very many.”
“It seems,” I said to the others, “that we are going to assist at a gladiatorial show arranged regardless of expense.”
Sir Henry shivered, and Good said he wished that we could get out of it.
“Tell me,” I asked Infadoos, “are we in danger?”
“I know not, my lords, I trust not; but do not seem afraid. If ye live through the night all may go well with you. The soldiers murmur against the king.”
All this while we had been advancing steadily towards the centre of the open space, in the
